
a week later at home, when i drew the prized rock from my bag, the vibrant color was gone, in its place an ordinary muted grey. in vain, i ran it under the tap, hoping water would restore the green color. but to be as it had been, the rock needed something that was not in the new england environs, some natural element that was unique to the air over ireland or the waters of the north atlantic. like so many things in nature, it needed to be enveloped in its native surroundings to be what it was truly meant to be.
1 comment:
I am sad to hear your rock lost its glorious green. I am glad to hear that I am not the only one who chooses rocks to remember important places and amazing experiences!
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